


Spanked!Clint

by HapticFeedback



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, Multi, PWP, Sex Toys, Spanking, post-Avengers movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-18
Updated: 2012-08-18
Packaged: 2017-11-12 09:29:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HapticFeedback/pseuds/HapticFeedback
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone likes to joke that Tony and Steve are the Avengers' mom and dad. When Clint refuses to go to the infirmary, though, he finds out just how seriously they take their roles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spanked!Clint

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fanfiction based upon [ladynorthstar's Spanked!Clint fanart on tumblr](http://ladynorthstarkinkycorner.tumblr.com/tagged/spanking). It was amazingly kink inspirational. ;)

“I’M FINE!!!” Roared Clint, shoving open the door to his bedroom at Stark Tower. Cap and Iron Man followed him in anyway, of course. They seemed to love driving him insane. 

They were amateurs compared to S.H.I.E.L.D., though. The super secret government agency had only just finished debriefing the heroes, and they were all three still in their battle worn suits. There was nothing that Hawkeye wanted more in that moment than to ruin Stark’s bazillion thread count silk sheets by crawling into them naked and sleeping for a year. Instead, he had to deal with his coddling nursemaids. He rounded on them, arms crossed in frustration and his thousand yard stare of death firmly in place. 

“You need to go to medical, Barton.” Steve’s voice was cool and collected, the exact tone he would use with a five year old throwing a temper tantrum. 

Clint glared back at him even harder. Funny, that shit usually sent people scrambling. 

“You fell off of a building.” Stark interjected, his tone all snark and condescension. “A building that was  _exploding_  and—let’s face it, Hawkass—your landing wasn’t all that graceful.” 

Clint shifted his ire to Tony. “Since when do you give a fuck, Stark? Seems to me you were the one closest to dying out there.” 

Bitch, please. No one out tantrums Tony Stark. “And I got my ass to medical like a good little boy.” 

“Hulk dragged you there kicking and screaming!” Clint spluttered. “You wouldn’t even take off the Goddamn suit!” 

“Language.” Cap warned. 

The other two both ignored him. “That’s what family DOES! If you didn’t want the favor returned, you shouldn’t have been watching my six back there.” Tony was quickly catching up to Clint’s level of irritation. He stepped in close, metal finger prodding the other man in the chest hard enough to bruise. “So suck it up. You’ve got zero chance of winning here, lightweight.” 

Clint knocked Stark’s hand away. Fucking entitled superheroes, throwing their super strength around. Last time he checked, Clint had just saved the world the same as them. Barton might not have anywhere else to stay tonight, but he’d sleep on the streets before he put up with this condescending bullshit. 

“Fuck me; I didn’t know joining the Avengers meant getting a brand new mom and dad.” Clint stormed away, shoulder checking Steve on his way out of the door. 

That was a bad move on his part. Captain America might not look it, but he was angrier than both of his teammates. He had seen too many of his soldiers die to just let Clint slide on taking unnecessary risks. 

Steve grabbed the smaller man by his quiver and sent him careening into Iron Man. A hiss escaped Barton’s lips as he made contact with Stark’s suit, his back exploding with reawakened pain. Tony caught him as his vision darkened, knees going weak. 

Steve started working on the buckles to Hawkeye’s vest. “If you’re going to act like a child, we’re going to treat you like one!” 

Clint brought both of his legs off of the ground and kangaroo kicked Cap in the chest. Steve stumbled backwards, catching himself by grabbing the hem of Barton’s pants. The fabric shredded and the buckles snapped free. 

Guy wasn’t even wearing any underwear. 

“THAT IS IT!” Cap raised his voice for the first time during the whole encounter. Steve kept a hold on Barton’s ankles, and together, he and Tony marched the smaller man over to the bed.

Hawkeye flexed and kicked, but the other two succeeded in folding him over Cap’s lap. Tony sat down too, keeping control of Clint’s torso as Steve wrapped his leg around Clint’s flailing limbs. They were only going to hold him still, but Hawkeye just wouldn’t quit his shit. 

Cap brought his hand down, and the stinging crack of it knocked the air out of Barton. His ass lit on fire as Steve kept raining blows—one, two, three, until he lost count. Clint refused to make any noise, though. He could—and had—taken much more punishment than this before. 

Pain was the job, after all, and Hawkeye knew he more than deserved it. 

“Damn it, Barton.” Cap sighed, putting a hand in Clint’s hair to wrench his head around. “Just give me something,  _anything_ to show you still care about your life.” 

Clint’s face was dead. He wiggled his ass in the air, unable to curb his rebellious nature even if—or maybe especially because—he was in such an outmatched situation. 

“You missed a spot.” He smarted off. 

Steve squeezed his eyes shut and released his grip on Barton’s hair, a look of grim determination taking over his face. Barton felt an arrow slide free from his quiver, and  _oh shit_ , that worried him. His arrows were whippet thin, fast, deadly, and—above all else—unbreakable. 

“Wait, wait, wait!” Clint gritted out, trying to play nice as he heard the whistling sound of Cap drawing the arrow back. A relieved sweat broke out across his skin as Steve’s hand stilled in the air, waiting for Barton to say something. “I’ll go to the infirmary!” He lied in a rush, his words spilling out without thought. “I’ll get patched up and everything will be puppies and rainbows again, just like before I killed all of those…”

 Clint zippered his mouth shut, horrified at what he had started to say. Tears pricked at his eyes because,  _fuck_ , even now he couldn’t stop thinking about the agents he had killed…couldn’t stop wishing that he had died instead.

 The arrow came down without warning and Clint cried out. He writhed as the assault continued. When the fifth stripe was laid across his cheeks, Barton gave up. He laid his forehead down on Iron Man’s cool metal thigh and let the tears flow freely down his face.

 Tony’s hand rubbing up and down his back was the final nail in the coffin. With the hail of blows to his backside and his own emotional catharsis, that one comforting gesture was enough to confuse Clint’s cock as much as the rest of him. He started to harden as Tony spoke to him. 

“That was not your fault, Barton.” Stark’s tone brooked no argument. 

Most of the time, Tony preferred to wheedle or cajole his way into getting what he wanted. Sometimes, though, he just straight laid down the law. 

And it was dead sexy. Every. Single. Time. 

Clint groaned as his cock jerked against Captain America’s thigh. He hid his face in humiliation but couldn’t do much else. Every muscle in his body had just rebelled against him, and he was grinding helplessly against Cap’s leg. 

“Tony…” Steve exclaimed, surprised. His hands were raised in the air as if he was afraid to touch the man gyrating in his lap. 

The force of his amusement was so fierce that Tony’s face hurt from expressing it. Steve just looked so innocent. “Don’t worry, Cap. I think that’s his way of saying he’s ready for a little positive reinforcement.” 

Tony scooted out from under Clint and went over to the bedside table. He opened the drawer there, and, yeah,  _of course_  every room in Stark’s home had a stash of sex toys. He pulled out the lube and a particularly wonderful butt plug. It was purple with rings which graduated in size, and the vibrations ranged from a kitten purring to an earthquake in your pants. 

Stark set the toy on the bed in front of Clint’s eyes as he slicked it with copious amounts of KY. “Have you ever had anything inside of your ass, Robin Hood?” He asked the question offhand, as if it didn’t really matter. 

Clint groaned. “I can neither confirm nor deny…” He yelped, breaking off his reply as the arrow came down on his cheeks again. “ _Shit!_ Yes, YES, I have! Nothing as big as that, though. I don’t know if I can…” 

Tony patted him on the head, shushing him. “Don’t worry, love. We’re all going to learn a lot of new things about you today.” 

Cap moved Clint from his lap onto the bed, forcing Barton’s knees to bend so that his ass was high in the air. 

“We’re going to play a game I like to call Truth or Stupid.” Tony continued. “The way it works is that we’ll ask questions. If you answer with the truth…” Stark squirted the lube into Clint’s crack, the sudden cold making the archer jump. “You get a reward.” 

Stark’s metal clad finger invaded Barton’s rectum without warning, sinking into him and stretching him open millimeter by millimeter. Clint’s arms were shaking from holding himself up when Tony’s finger stopped, only one knuckle deep. 

“Stark…” He complained. 

“ _IF,_ however.” Tony talked over him. “You say something stupid… Well, you’re going to get a love tap from Captain Tightpants over here.” 

Clint tensed even before the crack broke across his abused glutes. It was the hardest hit yet, Cap having apparently found a better angle. A second after the blow, Barton’s torso collapsed onto the bed, his arms giving out. A surprised Tony’s finger slid the rest of the way into the archer. 

Steve and Stark both wrapped a hand around each of Clint’s thighs as the smaller man swayed. It kept his butt in position and had the unintended side effect of spreading him open further. Tony’s finger swirled around the newly loosened sphincter before pulling out. 

“Ungh.” Barton moaned desperately. He would agree to almost anything right now if they would just  _do something._ “Questions…Yeah, okay…Go!” 

Tony decided to start him out easy. “What’s your name?” 

“Clint ‘Hawkeye’ Barton.” The archer rolled his eyes at the softball question. 

Stark smiled, though. “See? I always knew your ass was smart.” He pushed the head of the toy into Barton. There was enough of a difference between it and the size of Tony’s finger that Clint squirmed. It turned into happy squirming when Stark flipped the first vibration setting on, though. 

Steve asked the next question, the one that had been forming since Barton’s outburst a moment ago. “How many people did you kill today?” His face was dark as the softly spoken words left his mouth. 

Clint sucked in a breath. How could Cap ask him that? So much for that bullshit about it not being Hawkeye’s fault. “I don’t know. Being Loki’s butt boy made it kind of hard to keep count. Thirty? Forty? Probably more… _fuck!_ ” 

Steve laid into him, not stopping at just one blow. 

“The correct answer would be ‘zero.’” Tony winced, explaining it as if he were teaching a kid that 2 + 2 = 4. Rogers was really flexing his super strength. “You can’t charge a hunk of wood with murder. You have to lay that at the feet of the puppeteer pulling the strings.” 

Cap was breathing a little heavier by the time he finished, and Clint was a writhing mess. The welts across his cheeks were starting to meld into one crimson splotch. 

“Infirmary.” Clint choked. “Now would be good.” 

Tony shared a look with Cap. Rogers didn’t say anything. So, Tony shrugged off the request. “That’s true enough.” He pushed the toy in one ring further and turned it up another notch. “Too bad that ship has sailed.” 

“Come on!” Barton yelled. It felt terrible; it felt great, and he couldn’t take another second of it. “I murdered them! It was me—my arrows, my bow, my arm. Just let me live out the rest of my shitty life in peaceful, crippling depression!” 

“Okay.” Tony sighed, giving Clint one moment of false hope. “…Maybe your ass  _isn’t_  as smart as I thought it was.” 

Cap’s blows this time landed squarely on the base of the plug. Clint couldn’t help but pump his hips in time with the toy swiftly fucking him. The control Steve had was precise. He hit it just hard enough for the plug to slide in half a ring, holding there at the widest point for a small eternity…and then back out. 

It drove Clint mad. “Zero, zero, zero.” He chanted it, a plea for mercy. 

Cap changed to light, playful swats that alternated between cheeks. “Good boy.” He praised Barton. 

Tony grabbed the toy again and started using it to fuck Clint in earnest. “Just truth from here on out, Clint…because I’m pretty sure your ass can’t take many more of Cap’s tickles.” 

Hawkeye moaned and panted as the plug slid snugly through him, one more ring firmly ensconced up his arse. Tony was an evil, evil man, though, and he removed the toy completely in the next second.

“From the beginning.” He commanded the archer. 

“My name is…um…is…” Clint couldn’t think as Iron Man teased him with the toy, slipping it in and out. 

Crack! “Silence is a stupid answer, Barton.” Steve frowned. 

The hit made Clint clench around the plug so tightly, he thought he might die. He sucked in as big a breath as possible in preparation to get all of this out at once. 

“My name is Clint ‘Hawkeye’ Barton. I killed zero people today—a fuckton of aliens, sure, but zero people.” The archer was pretty sure he could feel his teeth rattle as Tony kicked the toy up to the highest vibration. “ _And_ , I do solemnly swear that if you two will stop dicking around and fuck me silly, I will take my hot—both metaphorically and literally—ass down to medical.” 

“…Agreed.” Cap answered, nodding to Stark. 

Tony grinned wickedly as he was given free rein to let his freak flag fly. He unleashed his skills, twisting and tilting the plug so that it bottomed out in under a minute.

“Oh, God.” Clint’s voice was low and rough, and he felt like he might vomit. It didn’t seem like there was physically enough space for both his stomach and that plug inside of him. A swift swat from Steve let him know, though, that—no matter how little room he thought there was—there could always be less. 

Rogers flattened him out, and Clint’s cock met the bed at the same time that the toy brushed that magical place inside of him: the prostate. 

“Right. Fucking. There.” Clint told them. He tried to move into it, but Steve did an amazing job of holding him immobile while simultaneously squeezing Barton’s cheeks tight around Tony’s fist. 

“For once in your life, just do as you’re told, and stay still.” Cap snapped. 

Neither Tony nor Steve would do anything again until Clint had reduced his movements to heavy panting, his moist breath pressed into the comforter. Rogers’ fingers squishing into his burning ass hurt so good. When Tony started pulling the toy out again, Clint felt every ripple of it sliding from inside him, through his sphincter, and between his cheeks. 

The plug popped free, and Clint could hear it buzzing, the sound increasing in pitch…once…twice…three times.

“Jeez, Tony.” Cap’s voice sounded disbelieving.

Stark, of course, was smug. “I may have made some modifications.” 

Clint started bucking as soon as it touched the crevice between his perfectly rounded globes—screaming when it began drilling into him. Mindless, mindless ecstasy surrounded Barton’s brain and cut him off from everything else. He could vaguely sense when Cap’s hand wedged itself under his stomach, sliding its way down his happy trail. 

The plug banged his prostate, again, and Clint was  _fiiiiinally_  cumming. 

…Until Steve’s hand clamped down around him. Barton cursed into the covers, struggling as Stark continued his fucking motion even though Steve refused to let the archer get off. 

“I’d say we fulfilled our end of the bargain in fucking him silly.” Cap told Tony, amusement clear in his voice as Clint shuddered out his non-gasm. 

The moment passed slowly, and Clint knew his poor, tired body would never let him go another round. Stark grinned like a loon over their victim, realizing there might just be a man on this planet that was more of an asshole than even him.

“Yeeaahh…” Tony agreed thoughtfully. “You know, I think you’re right.”

He pushed the plug into its seat snugly inside of Barton.

“I hate…you both…” Clint told them as Captain America slung the archer over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

Steve patted his passenger’s ass consolingly as they walked out of the room, Tony holding the door open as he cackled. “Maybe next time you will come to us first for your masochistic needs.”

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

The S.H.I.E.L.D. medical team waiting a few floors below didn’t ask questions about the bright red welts. Not even a word was uttered about the equally vibrant purple butt plug that Clint’s back injuries prevented him from removing by himself.

The general consensus was to shrug and respond, “ _Meh_ , I’ve seen weirder.”

Which was true, in fact, because there was this one time that Black Widow had…

…Well, I guess that’s a story for another day, actually. =)


End file.
